


Detour

by alistairweekend



Series: Izelle Lavellan [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Platonic Cuddling, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 02:45:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4770578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alistairweekend/pseuds/alistairweekend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thought “Izelle nerding out over some herbs and jumping into a pond without hesitation to get them much to Cullen's shock” spurred this, haha~</p>
            </blockquote>





	Detour

“So we’ll take a southern route to where your camp is, which is where we’ll part ways and– what in Andraste’s name are you doing, Izelle?!" 

Cullen had been more pleased than he had let on when he had been assigned as the Herald’s escort down to the base of the Frostbacks. Of course, the arrangement was one of pure convenience – Cullen had business to attend to nearby where Izelle was headed – but he found himself looking forward to the prospect of spending more time with the gentle Dalish girl. They had hit it off quite well over the course of the month they had been at Haven, but this was the first time they had been able to have true one-on-one time; no other duties to pull them away or anyone to snap that they were wasting time by chatting. 

However, when Cullen had envisioned "private” time, he hadn’t had…  _this_  in mind. 

“Hm?” Izelle sounded unconcerned as she glanced over her shoulder, peering through the gap between her arm and head that formed as she pulled her shirt off, tossing it onto the ground next to her leather coat, boots, and trousers. Which left her standing in nothing but her undergarments. 

Face growing hotter by the second, Cullen snapped his gaze away, too flustered and bewildered to say anything else. 

Suddenly it seemed to occur to Izelle that stripping in front of someone you hardly know wasn’t a widely accepted thing to do. “Oh! I– uh, there’s some dawn lotus here in this pond! It’s very rare! I need to swim a bit to get it, though… just give me a moment!" 

"Lady Herald…” Cullen began, ready to list the innumerable reasons why that was a bad idea, but he was cut off by the sound of sloshing water; she had waded in. 

“The Inquisition can use this,” Izelle stated, sensing Cullen’s unspoken argument, as she returned from the pond with a fistful of the plant’s spindly roots. She came right up to Cullen, forcing him to look at her by holding the bundle out to him. Her russet hair, flattened and lengthened by the water weighing down on it, caught the morning sunlight and blazed a deep red. “Could you hold this? I need to, ah… get my clothes back on." 

The commander’s face heated up all over again. "Y-Yes, of course,” he replied stiffly, focusing his gaze all too intensely on Izelle’s face so as to not let his eyes wander elsewhere. She met his stare, large hazel eyes inquisitive, before her mouth broke into a wide smile and she ducked her head, stifling a laugh. 

Cullen felt a sense of indignity rise within him as he watched her walk back to the pile of clothes without an explanation for the giggles. Why shouldn’t he be shocked at her indecency? Maybe it was acceptable in Dalish culture to get nearly naked around acquaintances, but it certainly wasn’t in any normal human society! 

That was what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t seem to muster any words at all as Izelle finished slipping on her coat and returned to his side, a smile on her face as if nothing had happened. He merely sighed instead and handed her the roots, which she took and counted with enthusiasm. “Oh, this should be enough for a few weeks at least!” She seemed immensely pleased, and the positive attitude was contagious despite Cullen’s best efforts to remain ruffled. 

They continued their trek for another good hour or so, before Izelle finally piped up, “Cullen, you’ve been awfully quiet. Are you all right?" 

He glanced over at her, trying to think of what to say, when he noticed her arms wrapped around her midriff, trembling slightly. "Are you cold?" 

She seemed startled by the counter question. "Oh, um… I suppose I underestimated how chilly the water was, just a little,” she chuckled. “But I’m fine." 

Pursing his lips, Cullen looked to the sky, noting the sinking sun. He stopped in his tracks, and Izelle followed suit, her expression puzzled. "It’s getting late. We won’t make it by nightfall. We might as well set up camp for the night." 

"There’s still some daylight left,” Izelle protested. “Besides, we didn’t pack any tents." 

"My lady,” Cullen began, grunting as he dropped his pack, “you are  _shivering_. Can’t have the Herald of Andraste dying of hypothermia in the middle of nowhere. Not on my watch, at the very least.” He walked over to the base of a tree and began collecting wood. “Good, nice and dry,” he muttered. 

“I’m an ice mage!” Izelle insisted with a frown. “I can stand the c-cold better than most…” But she seemed to realize her argument was futile as her voice betrayed her, stuttering over her words as her teeth chattered. Finally, she dropped her own pack and sat on the ground. Cullen set to starting a fire in front of her, glancing up to see her pout. “…You can call me Izelle, you know." 

The beginnings of a headache tinged Cullen’s mind, and as he grimaced and tried to shake it off, he missed Izelle’s grumbled request. Sitting back against a log after the fire was adequately burning, he removed his metal gauntlets and breastplate. Izelle watched him curiously. "Come here. You’re still freezing.” Cullen gestured next to him. 

Izelle’s eyes went wide, but she couldn’t refuse, so she carefully scooted closer until she sat next to Cullen – not close enough to touch, but so that she could feel his body heat. Now it was her turn for blush to spread across her cheeks. 

“You’re  _quite_  warm,” she remarked after a few moments, casting a glance at Cullen in mild surprise. “Are you all right?” The second time she had asked that day, her face showed such genuine worry that it was nearly heartrending. 

He hesitated, wondering if he should tell her the truth; if he was honest, Cullen rather felt like his body was burning from the inside out, but that was nothing new since he had given up lyrium. 

When he didn’t answer right away, Izelle turned to face Cullen fully and put a hand to his forehead. Her touch was blissfully cool. “You feel like you have a fever…!" 

Although he would have liked her hand to stay on his skin for a while, Cullen lifted it away from him. "I’m fine. Trust me." 

"But you’re–!" 

"I’m. Fine.” His voice was a bit sterner than he intended.

Izelle seemed appalled that he would deny his condition, if not somewhat taken aback by his tone, but instead of arguing with him, she sat back down so her side pressed against Cullen. He blinked down at her. “What are you…?” He began, but trailed off as he felt cold radiating from her body – not any normal sort of cold, either. 

“There,” she said pointedly. “A mutually beneficial relationship. Perks of being an ice mage.” It felt so nice that Cullen couldn’t bring himself to protest. 

Before long, Izelle’s head came to rest on his shoulder, growing heavier as she grew drowsier. Cullen was content to scan the surrounding forest and watch the stars grow brighter in the sky. 

“You can tell me things, you know,” Izelle murmured. She must have been half-asleep. “We’re friends. I worry about you, sometimes…” It seemed as though she wanted to continue her thought, but her voice ceased softly and didn’t return. While her body remained cool, the magical coldness gently faded away. 

Of course Cullen knew they were friends, but hearing Izelle say so out loud brought a smile to his face. “Thank you, Izelle,” he whispered.


End file.
